


Heart Palpitations and Lips So Soft

by ClementineKitten



Series: clem's university au [3]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Fluff, M/M, Teasing, and pretty gay, human kiibo au, it's silly, pour one out for poor anxious gay keebs, take this please, this is like half crack i s2g, what is even happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:17:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineKitten/pseuds/ClementineKitten
Summary: I happened to mention in the Saimatsu fic very fleetingly that Kiibo and Ouma were spending some seven minutes in heaven time alone themselves...Here's what ensued between them while Saihara and Kaede were """getting it on"""





	Heart Palpitations and Lips So Soft

“Who woulda thunk it! You two fuckers are up next!”

“U-us?”

Kiibo wrapped his arms around his legs, flustered. He felt like all of the wind had been knocked out of him, a fuzzy feeling meddling in his mind and spreading through his chest. The bottle, which he had control of, had landed on Ouma for the third time. His heart was thrumming in his chest as Ouma, looking as nonchalant and carefree as ever, sprung up from Amami’s lap.

“Alright, Kii-baby, let’s get going,” he purred in a seductive tone. Kiibo cringed and withdrew into himself, his nerves pulsing through him. Harukawa put a finger to her chin and looked around.

“Akamatsu and Saihara are in the only closet in this room,” she noted. Iruma rolled her eyes.

“They can use the one in mine, but I ain’t on cleaning duty for whatever happens in there!” she shouted crassly. Kiibo spluttered out a few incoherent excuses.

“Please wait!” he cried as Ouma stood, still, looking incredibly giddy, as always. _Is that just the way he is, or is he excited to do this with me…?_ Kiibo’s heart squeezed as he imagined the electric buzz he felt from the warmth of his roommate’s lips on his, the feeling that coursed through his entire body as his arms wrapped around him… He flushed heavily and tried to smother the thoughts. “O-Ouma-kun and I can just wait until Saihara-kun and Akamatsu-san are done…” he offered, thinking fast.

“What’s wrong, Kii-boy? Don’tcha wanna spend time with me in the love shack?” Ouma put in unhelpfully. Kiibo pressed the tips of his fingers together nervously.

“No, it’s not that- I mean, augh…!” Kiibo’s gaze fell to the floor. “If there’s nowhere in here we can use, then we’ll wait.”

“Fat chance, Kiibo,” Iruma responded disapprovingly, making a gaudy gesture with her hands. “Y’all can take the bathroom, right, Harukawa?” She tipped her head towards the red-eyed girl, who was gazing at them the way a disappointed parent would look at a child who broke something.

“I suppose,” she mumbled in response. Ouma brightened and waltzed over to Kiibo, pulling him up by the arm. Kiibo stumbled less-than-gracefully to his feet as Ouma swung him back and forth. The white-haired boy felt like he was on fire.

“Alrighty, we’ll be seeing you then~!” Ouma hummed as he dragged Kiibo off down the hall and to the bathroom, the latter’s heart racing faster than his brain could catch up to what was happening. Maybe he wasn’t the best at reading the air, but two words came to mind in this situation: sexual tension. His eyes darted around the room as Ouma shoved him into the bathroom and pulled the door shut, locking it behind them.

“Ah! Ouma-kun!” Kiibo backed up from his roommate until his feet hit the bathtub. Ouma turned towards him and leaned against the back of the door, watching Kiibo with an even gaze.

“Whoa, now, Kii-boy, what did you think I was gonna do to you?” he asked, innocently cocking his head to the side like this was a game to him. Kiibo was tense, and didn’t have the luxury of pressing himself into the wall shyly, as all that separated him from the interior of the bathtub was a flimsy shower curtain.

“Um... “ Kiibo stared into Ouma’s eyes nervously. Had he completely misread the situation? He inhaled sharply. “Well, I mean, you were pretty eager to, um, get in here…” His roommate’s eyes bored holes into him. “And you did it kind of forcefully?” He gripped the curtain behind him tightly, you know, for support. Ouma snickered, flashing one of his signature, wide smiles at Kiibo.

“Oh, Kii-boy, are you suggesting that you want _something_ to happen?” he giggled, and advanced towards Kiibo. The white-haired boy’s breath caught in his throat. _I know that I’ve liked him for a year, maybe, but am I ready for something like this? Oh no, Oh God, I AM NOT PREPARED, **NOT LIKE THIS-**_

“Aw, you look so nervous~” Ouma chirped. He knows what he’s doing, Kiibo thought to himself, flustered. _Am I really that easy to figure out…? I know Ouma-kun is… Like this, but still…_ He looked wildly around the room, trying to focus on anything _except_ Ouma. He was shaking from his nerves, Ouma towering over him despite his short stature with a smirk

“Ou-Ouma-kun…?” Kiibo mumbled softly. Ouma smiled and tipped his head to the side, raising his hand and placing it on his chest. Kiibo’s heart hammered against his ribcage as the purple-haired boy leaned in closer and…

Reeled quickly backwards with a laugh. “Oh, man, Kii-boy, the look on your face is priceless!” he chuckled. Kiibo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, slumping down against the bathtub. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, mixed with a dissatisfied feeling of disappointment… Like he wanted more. Another surge of heat shot up his neck. “That’s why I like you, Kii-baby, you’re so fun to tease!”

He hopped up onto the white countertop, swinging his legs back and forth, a clear disregard for the two brushes that he knocked into the sink. “So, what do you want to do for our seven minutes? Play truth or dare? Make obnoxious noises? Strip?”

“Um, what was that last one?” Kiibo tilted his head back into the plastic curtain. Ouma fixed a serious glare on the white-haired boy.

“You heard me,” he said, his face blank. Kiibo’s eyebrows knit as after the display, Ouma’s cheery demeanor immediately returned.

“Oh well, I mean, we live together,” he hummed, playing with a necklace hanging from a hook on the wall. “I’ve already seen you naked more times than I’ve seen a lover,” he reminded him. Kiibo flushed. Another downside to liking your roommate is being very intimate in a non-sexual or romantic way.

“A-ah, of course,” he mumbled. He curled a longer strand of hair around his finger and sighed deeply. Ouma pulled out his phone and the two sat in a terse silence, the only noise between them being the soft whirr of the fan overhead. Kiibo found himself staring at the spotted linoleum tiles underfoot.

“This is so _boring,_ ” Ouma complained after about thirty seconds. He looked up from his phone and over at Kiibo, excitement sparking in his gaze. He slid off of the counter and propped his elbows against it. “Heyyy, Kii-boy, wanna have some fun with me?” he asked suggestively. Kiibo gulped.

“And what would that entail…?” he shot back, feeling his anxiety come to life once more. He pressed himself further into the white backing behind him as Ouma crawled towards him, a devilish grin upon his adorable face. Kiibo’s mouth dried.

“Play a game with me,” he said in a low voice, sitting up on his legs, his face about a foot from Kiibo’s. He was so close, he could feel the other boy’s hot breath… Or perhaps he was just hallucinating from the after-effects of his kiss. _What am I thinking?_

“I mean, I kind of assumed that part…” Kiibo started, his voice trailing off. Ouma smirked.

“Truth or dare,” the purple-haired boy said in a breathy voice that made the hair on Kiibo’s arms stand up.

_That doesn’t sound too bad… But with Ouma-kun, I can never be sure._ After a moment’s hesitation, Kiibo responded. “You’re on.” Trying to reason with or talk Ouma out of an idea was nigh impossible. Ouma smiled brightly and pulled out his phone.

“Rad,” he replied. “I just so happened to download a truth or dare app, so really, all I needed was your consent.” He clicked on a few things before eventually looking back up at Kiibo. “Okay, Keebs, truth or dare?”

Kiibo leaned back, suddenly flooded with the thought of _how did I get into this?_ He was locked in someone else’s bathroom, with the guy he liked, under the guise of something “romantic” or dirtier taking place, and they were playing truth or dare, a game infamous for its non-platonic and jokey undertones. _Oh God,_ he thought for the umpteenth time that night. “Let’s start with a truth,” he sighed.

“Ugh, that’s boring, Kii-boy,” Ouma groaned. “But whatevs. You have the first turn, so I’ll go easy on you,” He clicked something on his phone and screwed up his face. “ _‘What were your first impressions of any player of your choosing?’_ Well, you’re only playing with me, so what did you first think of me?” He lowered his phone and batted his eyelashes at Kiibo.

“Well, we met in high school, but didn’t really become friends until university, right?” Kiibo started. Ouma nodded.

“But we had a special connection,” he mused. Kiibo rolled his eyes.

“To be frank, I thought you were annoying,” he finished. Ouma pouted.

“How can you be Frank if you’re Kii-boy…?” he mumbled. “You’re so mean, Kibble! Didn’t you know we’d be best friends as soon as you laid eyes on me?” he added accusingly.

Kiibo thought back to Ouma in his high school days. He had hair that was a little longer than it was now, liked to wear beanies, and always wore bright clothing. He was always laughing, always joking, always pissing the teachers off. “...No.” He sighed. “I’m not an esper.”

“Ah-ha! You’ve just admitted indirectly that I am irrefutably your best friend!” Ouma exclaimed. Then he pursed his lips. “Aw dang, friendzoned again,” he added in sarcastically. Not giving Kiibo any time to react to that statement, he spoke quickly and handed his phone off to the white-haired boy. “My turn! I choose dare!” He clapped his hands together. Kiibo hit the dare button on his phone. He balked at the prompt that came up, red blooming on his cheeks.

“I, uh…” Kiibo’s eyes went from the dare, to Ouma’s expectant face, then back down to the dare. He couldn’t even find the words to voice it, despite them glaring back at him from the screen.

“What is it?” Ouma piped up, leaning towards Kiibo and examining his phone. His eyes widened momentarily. “ _‘Striptease for thirty seconds,’_ ” he read, blinking at the prompt. Kiibo averted his eyes. “Alright~!” The purple-haired boy leapt up from his spot and looked down at Kiibo with an excited expression.

“Hey, uh, Ouma-kun, you don’t have to-” Kiibo started to protest but was cut off by Ouma thrusting his hand forward, and putting his free one on his hip.

“You know, Kii-baby, I’ve always planned on falling back on a stripper gig if this whole ‘university’ thing doesn’t work out for me,” Ouma said, adopting a serious tone. You can’t be actually serious. “So, how would you like to be my first client?”

“Not at all,” Kiibo responded, placing Ouma’s phone beside him and hugging his knees to his chest anxiously. _You say that, Kiibo, but is that how you_ really _feel?_ The boy shook his head as if trying to rid himself of such indecent thoughts.

“Too bad!” Ouma giggled. “Alright, where do I start? I feel like there should be some music to go along with this.” He stuck out his lower lip. “Kii-boy, put on Careless Whisper!” he commanded. 

“No,” Kiibo replied evenly. Ouma gave him a cute little pout that made his heart flutter.

“Fiiiiiine,” he whined. He put a finger to his chin in thought. “Alrighty then, let’s go!”

Kiibo inhaled deeply and let out a sigh as Ouma began to hum early eighties saxophone ballads to himself. He crossed his arms and gripped the bottom of his shirt with the opposite hand and slowly started to lift it. Kiibo tapped his fingertips on the tiles. _I don’t have a reason to be nervous, we live together, I’ve seen it all before…_ And yet his rational thinking didn’t stop him from anxiously trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

He did the lifting of the shirt excruciatingly slowly, a smile that made Kiibo bite his tongue playing on his lips the whole time. As he lifted it over his head, he did a graceful hair flip and tossed his shirt at the mirror, launching it like one might fling an elastic band. 

“This is where the fun begins,” he snickered, dancing over to Kiibo in a weird, comical half-sashay.

“Um, Ouma-kun, what are you doing?” the white-haired boy asked quizzically. Ouma licked his lips as he squatted down and skidded to his knees. He placed his hands on Kiibo’s chest, causing him to flinch shyly back.

He let his hands trail down the boy’s body, setting any part of him that wasn’t already burning aflame, his fingers tracing the folds and creases in his skin. “Ouma-kun! What are you doing?!” His heart raced, thoughts running wildly in his mind. “I don’t think-”

“Aaaaand that’s thirty seconds.” Ouma leaned back on his calves and looked at Kiibo, seemingly satisfied with how embarrassed he made his roommate. He was red as a beet, his heart pounding away, his chest feeling like it was on fire. “Wow, Kii-boy, keep it together. We still have a few more minutes… Together.” He winked.

“Anyways…” Kiibo swallowed. “Shouldn’t you put your shirt back on?” he asked, glancing at his roommate’s bare chest in spite of himself.

“Hard pass on that one,” Ouma responded simply with a childish smile. Kiibo flushed.

“Oh, u-um… Alright…” Kiibo transitioned awkwardly, just accepting his roommate's insistence. “My turn. Truth, please.” He picked up Ouma’s phone and handed it to him.

“Vanilla answer for a vanilla-haired boy,” he hummed as he pressed the ‘truth’ button. “Interesting… _‘What is a turn-on for you?’_ ”

“Huh?” Kiibo blinked rapidly. Ouma rolled his eyes.

“What gets you going? It can be a physical thing or a personality trait, whatevs,” he explained.

“I _know_ what a turn-on is, Ouma-kun,” Kiibo retorted. “I was just reacting to the question. A turn-on, huh?” He let the question settle in and thought for a moment. _Well, I can’t say anything that Ouma-kun can immediately assume is about him…_ “I like when someone has a good sense of humour, but knows when to be serious. Someone who I don’t always have to second-guess myself about, who I can be comfortable with and know they’re being honest with me.”

Ouma seemed to absorb all of what Kiibo said. “So, basically the complete opposite of me?” he mumbled that in a bit of a quieter tone, his face falling for a brief moment. “Whatever! That was a boring answer, Keebs. That’s so you~” He quickly jumped back to his cheerful persona. “I was expecting you to unveil some kinky stuff, though. Like that you’re a total bottom? You like bondage? Anything, really!” he pried, leaning in closer to Kiibo.

“Uh, no. Nice try, though,” Kiibo replied as Ouma grinned at him, placing the phone in his hand.

“I’ll take your example and do a truth as well. I know, surprising for me.” Ouma propped up his chin with his hands and gazed expectantly at Kiibo, who quickly pressed the button for what he desired.

“ _‘How many people have you kissed?’_ ” Kiibo read. Ouma narrowed his eyes, as if he was deep in thought. 

“Well,” he started as he took his hand and started counting on his fingers. “You, Amami-chan, and that’s just tonight,” he joked. “But then there’s, uhm… I’ve probably kissed Saihara-chan, but he’s blocked that memory out of his cognition, and then there’s random guys in high school… Probably around maybe five?”

“Ah, I see…” Kiibo tried to think of something to say, but everything fell flat on his lips, and he was hit with a surge of jealousy. _Why am I like this?_ Ouma brightened and took the phone from Kiibo’s hands. 

“Okee-dokee! I’m guessing you want a truth?” he asked. Now, Kiibo figured, was a good time to realize Ouma was still shirtless. And in front of him. In a situation like this. And it took every bit of self-control to not freak out about it.

Kiibo nodded weakly. “Yep.” Ouma rolled his eyes. When he looked down at the screen again, his eyes widened, and flashed with intrigue. 

“Okay, Kii-boy, here’s a good one.” His eyes met Kiibo’s, shining with curiosity. “ _‘Who do you have a crush on?’_ ”

Oh, no.

This was the worst possible outcome. No. Kiibo couldn’t do this.

But if he lied, would Ouma believe him? Probably not. He’d see through it in an instant- it was just the way he was. A torrent of thoughts tore through his mind as he struggled to think of what he could do to alleviate the intense awkwardness that suddenly draped itself over the room.

A white lie couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Someone,” he answered finally.

“You’ve piqued my curiosity. Who has caught my beloved Kii-boy’s eye?” Ouma asked, looking genuinely interested. Kiibo cringed, heat making his skin prickle uncomfortably.

“Someone you don’t know, so it’d be pointless to tell you,” he said. Ouma’s bare shoulders drooped, and a look of disappointment crossed his face.

“Oh… Really?” His voice wavered. Kiibo’s eyebrows knit. “I mean- You’re not lying to me, are you, Kii-boy?” Ouma’s eyes shone with crocodile tears, and he placed a hand firmly on one of Kiibo’s knees. He jumped at the touch.

“Nope. End of question.” Kiibo jutted forward to grab the phone, but Ouma quickly snatched it away from him. He gave a roommate a perplexed look, to which he responded with a cheeky grin.

“It’s still my turn,” he whispered. His voice sent a shiver down Kiibo’s spine. “Hey, Kii-boy, dare or double dare?”

“That’s, um, not how the game works,” Kiibo objected. Ouma pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. He fell quiet immediately. What is he doing? 

“Come on, Kiibo-chan.” _Honourifics? With me? He must be getting serious._ Ouma drew his finger away from Kiibo’s lips. “Dare or double dare?” He cocked his head to the side, smiling.

“Um, I’ll go with dare, then…” Kiibo replied with uncertainty. Ouma brightened. _Maybe he thought of a funny dare? Maybe things will be okay?_ He forced down his worries and tried to relax, words of reassurance running through his brain. _It’ll be alright._

Then Ouma opened his mouth.

“Kiss me.”

“Um, excuse me?!”

Kiibo’s face darkened a few shades redder as he stared, bewildered at Ouma, who looked back at him innocently like he had simply asked for a spare pencil. He leaned in towards him.

“You heard me,” he replied with a smile. “Kiss me.” He repeated the words, but they fell on deaf ears, as Kiibo panicked internally. _What the hell is he talking about?_ he thought fervently, his eyes darting around, looking for any means of escape. His heart thrummed in his chest, torn between wanting to kiss Ouma and wanting to get the hell out.

Well, yeah, sure, he wanted to kiss Ouma. He liked him, after all. Was that so bad?

But not during a game of truth or dare.

Ouma gently stroked Kiibo’s cheek, causing the latter to let out a small gasp. “You kissed me out there, what’s the big deal in here?” he asked, half looking like he was going to take himself up on his own dare. He stared into Kiibo’s eyes.

“Uh, um, uh-” Kiibo stuttered, unable to form anything coherent. Ouma cackled, clearly pleased with himself. 

“Don’t you wanna kiss me?” he asked, as if it was a challenge.

“Um!” Kiibo let out a grunt. His heart was beating so loud he was sure Ouma could hear it, blood was pounding in his ears, and his nerves were out of control.

On top of it all, Ouma was _still shirtless_ , and the body heat emanating off of him was indescribable. Kiibo trembled as the purple-haired boy leaned in closer, and tried to comfort himself with the thought of _it’s alright, this is for the game, Ouma-kun is just putting on an act…_

But the thought that Ouma was faking it only made him feel _worse._

“Come on, Kiibo-chan,” he said in an almost sultry voice. The heat from his breath lingered in the air between them. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I mean-”

Ouma didn’t allow Kiibo to respond before he tilted his chin gently upwards, pulled him towards him, and kissed him. He pressed his body into the white-haired boy’s, reminding Kiibo that only a single piece of fabric- his own shirt -separated him and Ouma’s skin.

The kiss was… Amazing.

There’s a lot of synonyms in the English language that would describe what Kiibo felt as Ouma pressed into him, his thumbs caressing his cheeks, but honestly, the only word he even had the strength to muster was _amazing_. He melted into Ouma, whatever that means, their bodies falling into each other.

The heat of the inside of Ouma’s mouth, the softness of his lips… All of it was speaking to Kiibo.

He noticed, as this happened, that Ouma was being deliberate and slow with their kiss. It wasn’t sloppy, it was soft and gentle, as he pushed the back of his head into the edge of the bathtub. The way their mouths moved, it was all Ouma.

He wasn’t acting. He wasn’t putting on a show for the other party-goers.

_This was all Ouma-kun._

And somehow, that made Kiibo’s skin flush even further.

That was when Kiibo realized that he had to breathe, and that his chest was burning not only with desire but with a need for oxygen. And almost as if Ouma sensed this, he slowly withdrew, thumbing Kiibo’s cheek as he did so. The white-haired boy stared at Ouma’s reddened face with starstruck eyes.

There was a few moments of quiet, where the only noises between them were their own rapid heartbeats and Kiibo’s short, shallow breaths. Kiibo finally decided to open his mouth as Ouma watched him with a telltale smug expression. “I like you, Ouma-kun,” he breathed, his lips pulsing with heat.

Ouma smirked. “I know.”

“Y-you do?” Kiibo balked. Ouma chuckled.

“You’re not very slick,” he snickered. He ran his hands over Kiibo’s chest. “I’ve known for a while.”

“Really? Why didn’t you say anything?” Kiibo’s lip trembled.

“I wanted you to make a move, d’oy,” Ouma mumbled, as if the answer should have been obvious. “But I got tired of waiting.”

“Tired of waiting?” Kiibo echoed, his chest burning. “Does that mean-”

“Yes, you big dumb idiot,” Ouma chastised, his voice raising. “I like you, too. God, you’re dense.”

He said the answer so simply, yet warmth still exploded inside Kiibo’s gut, blooming inside his chest. He felt a jolt of electricity thrum through his body as Ouma confessed so shortly, nearly feeling paralyzed, but in a good way- His heart fluttered inside his ribcage, and he felt like he could burst. He hadn’t felt like this… Ever, he didn’t think.

He was so _happy._

“I mean, I made a huge show of kissing you out there, I’m always holding your hand, taking you places, talking to you, what the hell did you think I was doing that for? Because you’re my, how do Momota-chan and Saihara-chan say it? _My bro_?” Ouma rolled his eyes, giving Kiibo an affectionate look. “No. Uh-uh. Negative. Nada!”

“Oh, um… I had no idea,” Kiibo admitted. “I thought you were dating Amami-kun…”

“Amami-chan! Hah!” Ouma let out a sharp bark of laughter. “No. He’s just my completely platonic side hoe. I thought you knew that!” he chuckled.

A shock went through Kiibo. “I guess I was wrong then...” I’m so stupid!

Ouma giggled and rested his head on Kiibo’s chest. _Still shirtless_ , the white-haired boy thought to himself, embarrassed. “So, like, what are we?” he asked in a bewildered and dramatic tone. Kiibo felt the vibrations of his voice course through his body, and he subconsciously wrapped his arms around his roommate.

“I guess… We’re dating?” Kiibo suggested shyly. Ouma tipped his head, causing his hair to rub against the boy’s shirt. He smiled softly.

“I don’t like labels, but you know what? Having a boyfriend might work for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is goofy i'm sorry  
> but anyways, i hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless. the title half came from the fact that i'm getting heart palpitations and i got bloodwork done to make sure nothing was wrong... it was the most harrowing experience of my life  
> mad props to @keebokuun on tumblr for being my number one fan and cheering me on while i wrote this... you're the real og... love you famjams  
> take this garbage *tosses mediocre content into The Void*  
> i need to work on my saimatsu first date fic hmmm stop being lazy @me


End file.
